


Something Broken

by CassandraSilver



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Childhood Friends, Corporal Punishment, F/M, Gags, Harpies, Harpy, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Non-Sexual Slavery, Non-Sexual Submission, Panic Attacks, Post-War, Prisoner of War, Public Humiliation, Service Submission, Slavery, Submission, Trauma, Whipping, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandraSilver/pseuds/CassandraSilver
Summary: The kingdom of the humans and kingdom of the harpies have been at war for over five years now. But, when the prince Arturo is capture, the harpies prefer to surrender and conserve his life.Caleb, a human, is happy that the war is finally over, but this is nowhere near the end of his problems. Not only has he lost his leg but he also has to deal with the death of his best friend and now also the fact that his childhood friend was taken prisoner of them. Not simply a prisoner. The way Arturo is being treated is more like a slave.In dealing with his own traumas and problems and trying to prevent the kingdom from collapsing , Caleb must also find a way to save his now-foe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know exactly where I want to go with this story. Please, be kind, for English is not my native langague. In this universe, harpies and humans co-exist and harpies are creature that are essentially angels with feet of birds. They can be both male and female.  
> I will probably add more tag as the story goes. Please tell me what you are thinking of the story.  
> This is the first time I post anything in this site, so with you see something and wants to help, please, do so. Thank you!

The sun was hot above their heads, blood was bathing the floor, the screams were deafening. And it was out in the middle of that chaotic scene where humans and harpies threw themselves at each other, struggling and dying, getting dirty in the mud and blood that Caleb had last seen him.

Prince Arturo seemed almost strange in the midst of destruction. He was brave, imposing, shouting orders and words of encouragement, giving strength to his men to continue. In his gleaming shield and holding his silver sword, he had not been spared from the dirt, but there was something in him that stood out from the others. His blue eyes flashed in contrast to his black, messy hair and the feathers of his dark, huge wings, making him only fiercer...

This was not the first time Caleb had seen him, but it was with this image that he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, terrified. Not that the image of the prince of Hakki, the kingdom of the harpies frightened him, but was in that battle that he had lost everything.

Being from one of the most influent houses of Aldour, Caleb had followed Prince Leopold when the war between humans and harpies had begun. He, Leo and Turo had been friends as children before the war, and that catastrophic battle had been the last time they had been together: Caleb had lost his leg, Leopold had lost his life, Arturo had lost the chance to have his friends back.

Because no, Caleb did not think he would ever be able to forgive Arturo. Not after that. Not that he was directly responsible for Caleb's mutilation or Leo's death, but it had been the harpies to start the conflict, and since Arturo was their prince, he had had the power to end the war at the beginning, but chose not to and now everything was ruined.

Caleb had one more of his nightmares that night. In that one, not only did Arturo shout for his men to continue advancing, to continue fighting, but had encourage them to attack three figures of children without faces...

It was morning when Caleb woke up sweating, realizing that he had slept more than usual. But the nightmare was not the only responsible for waking him up. There was something wrong going on in the palace. The mornings used to be silent, but he could hear agitation from the other side of the door.

They were still at war and any change in routine was disturbing. Were they being attacked? His wound might have prevented him from marching in the battles, but he was still a great strategist and had been kept in the castle for that reason. If they were under attack, not only had they all failed to predict it, but they too would need him to plan the defense.

So he sat on the bed quickly, reaching for the prosthesis, pulling on a pair of pants and tossing a T-shirt over his pajamas as fast as he could. He also took the sword sheathed. If they were really under attack...

Caleb nearly bumped into a maid when he quickly opened the door. She was coming in quick steps down the hallway and almost did not stray in time. The woman, in her mid-fifties and with her small, dark eyes, murmured hastily excuses and was about to continue her way when Caleb stopped her.

“What is going on?”

“It's Lord Zaidin, sir. He's back! And asked for an audience with the Queen!”

The nobleman sighed, relaxing as the woman continued to run again. It was only Zaidin. Caleb returned to his room, not anxious to meet him.

The two of them have never get along, especially when they had fought together and the other had shown a very aggressive and impulsive style of strategy that Caleb disapproved. Moreover, after the death of Leo, who had left the Queen without apparent heirs, Zaidin had become a possible candidate for the throne. He only needed the support of the other houses to fulfill his claim, but Caleb, as leader of his house, refused to support him and the post remained pending.

Now, more calmly, he realized how quickly he had put the prosthesis and how much it was hurting his knee. Sitting down on the bed, Caleb adjusted it better and sighed again. He did not want to have to see Zaidin so soon, but he could not simply ignore an open audience with the Queen, that would be considered disrespectful.

He also took opportunity that they were not under an imminent attack to put on suitable clothes, changing the pants and the t-shirt carelessly put in into an elegant suit. He did his personal hygiene, still thinking about what could be so important that had Zaidin coming back from the battlefield in such an urgent to meet the Queen. Caleb also knew that if the motivation was not important, the Queen would not have agreed to meet him as soon as he reached the palace. After all, it still too early in the morning and Caleb knew from experience that the Queen liked to do things in her own time.

He reviewed everything he knew about Zaidin recently, trying to imagine a reason for the audience. Zaidin had conquered his last battle against the harpies a little over a fortnight before, and a week after that he had reported that the wounded were being sent to hospitals in the capital and the dead were sent to their families. Caleb did not expect Zaidin himself to return now, unless there was a really good reason, which he had not written in any of the reports he had sent to the capital.

Well, at least Caleb did not think it would be so bad. Zaidin was winning and his armies were conquering; this was probably just an exhibit show to try to prove once again that he deserved to be named the Queen's heir.

Caleb did not hurry, but he did not take too long either. He did not want to be late for the audience.

The palace was quiet again when Caleb finally left his room. He imagined that this meant that everyone was in the royal hall. Then it was there that he drove, not stopping to watch the immense corridors decorated with marble and stained glass, as he normally would.

He did not like being in the royal palace, that was the truth. Being there only brought back memories of when he was a child, and the palace visits usually promised several hours playing with Leo and Turo. But that had been so long ago and thinking about it only made him sadder. He only wanted the war to end soon, so the Queen would no longer need his services and he could go back to his own home.

When he entered the hall through one of the side doors, he realized that at least four-fifths of the palace people must have been there. In fact, he did not remember seeing the hall so crowded since the announcement that the war had been declared. Zaidin must have spread to everyone that he had something very important to talk about. It had better be true, or all those people would be disappointed.

Caleb wondered once again what that could all be about. Zaidin should really believe that he had something great... And even if his brain was usually fast, Caleb could not figure it out what it was.

He then walked to one of the stairs, heading toward the balcony. Being a duke, he knew he could simply stand next to the Queen, in a position of prominence and honor that his title allowed him. But he was late and did not want to make it too apparent. Not only that but he'd spotted his sister and intended to stand beside her. Maybe Adelia would know better about what was going on.

Sometime before, climbing the stairs with his prosthesis would have been a great challenge, but now it was nothing more than a mere inconvenience. He gripped the railing anyway. He did not want to make his limping so apparent as he climbed the stairs.

Passing between minor nobles and servants, all wanting a better position to see the audience, Caleb finally reached out to his sister, putting a hand on her waist to announce his presence.

"You do not scare me like that!" She complained, putting her hand on her chest. Adelia clearly had had more time to dress up than he did. She wore a simple, elegant yellow dress, a piece of her brown hair tucked gently behind her head, just enough to keep it from her face.

"I'm sorry," Caleb murmured back, looking down from the sill and seeing the people gathered on either side of the hall, the Queen seated on her throne at one end, surrounded by her warders and counselors, and an empty spot in the middle. Zaidin was nowhere to be seen. Caleb was not as late as he had feared. “What is this all about?”

"Haven’t you heard? Zaidin returned to the palace at dawn with a small entourage. No one expected him to show up, of course, but he arrived _demanding_ an audience with the Queen. He said he has the perfect way to end the war _and_ avenge her son. Nobody knows exactly what he found. Some are saying that he has gone nuts.” Adelia whispered, her hand covering her mouth as if it was a big secret, when it was obvious that everyone else already knew.

"Zaidin has gone mad..." Caleb ran his hand through his hair, still not quite understanding what was happening. Was he still asleep? Maybe this was another nightmare...

They all fell silent suddenly as the front door opened. Caleb leaned over the parapet, intending to have a better view. Zaidin finally entered the room, alone, in slow steps, as if wanting to prolong the suspense. Knowing Zaidin as Caleb did and knowing how much he enjoyed a show, it probably wasn’t far from the truth.

The other duke had elegant steps and was dressed in suits worthy of his title. His navy blue suit harmonized with his dark skin, and even though Caleb could not see so well from so high, he believed there was one of those sarcastic smiles on his face.

 Caleb hated Zaidin.

"My Queen" he said in a good tone, bowing to the throne. Then he continued, straightening his back, opening his hands to speak to the rest of the people: "Lords and ladies, sirs and madams, people of Aldour."

Caleb rolled his eyes, Adelia let out a sour sigh. Zaidin liked a show. The siblings could not find him more convinced or unbearable. It was as if the world was a great circus for him.

“‘I came, I saw, I won’! Julius Caesar used these words to describe his victory in the Battle of Zela and I now proclaim them as well. ‘I came, I saw, I won.’” He took his time to look around, watching the people. Everyone was in absolute silence. “Many of you must know that I said I had found the solution to finally end the war. Many of you must think I'm crazy. The war against the beastly harpies has lasted five years and taken from us more than we would have liked. We already lose nights of sleep, resources of all genres, time, friends, family.” Zaidin finished the last word by looking directly at the Queen. Caleb felt a tightening in his heart as he remembered Leo. “No more! Now we have something against them to guarantee our victory!”

He pointed to the door still open. Two men, dressed in uniforms and with their chests filled with medals, came dragging a third one between them. In fact, the man in the middle was a harpy, his dark wings clenched in chains, his wrists fastened by handcuffs, wearing only gray sweatpants and a brown sack on his head, hiding his face. A war prisoner.

Caleb was not comfortable with the mere idea of a war prisoner. Two years earlier, when the humans had made more captive harpies than there was room in their prisons, the Queen had signed a decree that individuals could claim the services of the harpies as servants. Caleb knew that these were just beautiful words for slavery, but his vow had been won among the Queen's advisors. "They are not human beings. And they were defeated, they should do something useful for us, "Caleb could still hear the voice of Zaidin at the meeting that had resulted in the Queen signing that decree.

The prisoner in the middle of the hall was tightly restrained, but he still found the strength to fight his captors even though it was useless. Harpies were magical creatures that were more powerful than humans normally. In a bare hands combat, the harpies would easily win. They were much stronger, faster, had the ability to heal quickly, get into other minds and increase feelings. Few things could kill a harpy. Whitefire and borean steel were one of the few things that could really hurt them. Borean steel still had another advantage: it was able to block harpy magic. The prisoner downstairs in the hall certainly wore handcuffs made of borean steel. Maybe even a collar.

Caleb had not yet understood what Zaidin’s point was. Had he discovered anything that needed a subject for demonstration?

Agitated at the thought of having a prisoner tortured in the front of everyone, Caleb gripped the parapet, going a little farther forward, looking at the Queen. From so far away, he could not see well, but it seemed that the woman was as confused as he was. Sitting on her bright throne, the gray-haired woman who normally emanated calmly seemed nervous. Her guards must have moved when the prisoner entered, for she was still holding one of her hands up, waiting for Zaidin's next move.

The tension in the air was almost palpable.

"That victory, my Queen," Zaidin continued as the harpy was thrown to his knees, “is my gift to your Majesty."

The duke went toward the prisoner on the floor, finally pulling the hood off his head and exposing his face to everyone.

A chatter exploded through the gathering crowd. Adelia grabbed her brother's wrist.

The air left Caleb's lungs.

"Good heavens, brother, is that..." Adelia began, but she was unable to continue, pale, shocked.

Caleb had to swallow a few times to get his voice back. From the balcony his vision was impaired, and the harpy beneath them had obviously been badly treated and bruised, but Caleb had seen his face too many times in his dreams to be confused.

It was him, it had to be.

“Arturo...”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is chapter two. I can not promise very frequent updates (even more so considering how many times I have to revise these chapters, since English is not my native language. And still I am not satisfied), but I promise I will try to post the sooner possible. One thing I noticed in the previous chapter is that you couldn't tell exactly when the story happens. In fact, it's sort of an alternate present, where technologies and clothing and most things are modern, but some rules are still pretty medieval and outdated.  
> I hope you enjoy and leave kudos and comments, please!!

Arturo never thought he would want _so_ much to see light. He was a harpy, and harpies were usually better off in the heights, in warm places, with abundant sunshine, that was true. He was used to the sun, but he did not think that the darkness would leave him in such a state.

The cell was dark and damp. The smell was terrible. There were no windows, no lamps, no candles, nothing. The only light came from the camera in the corridor: a red dot that barely did anything but denounce its presence. He did not even know if they could see him through that.

When he had been brought there, three days earlier, he thought that eventually his eyes would get used to the darkness. They did not get used to it the same way his wings, fists and necks had not gotten used to the chains.

Arturo had always dreamed of returning to the royal palace of Aldour. He just did not think it would be that way.

When he realized he was being taken to the palace, he had promised himself that he would not cry. Being in Aldour again only aroused memories of when he was a child and the times he had spent with his human friends in the royal castle. It only reminded him of everything he had lost so far.

But the tears had come anyway, burning his eyes when Zaidin removed the hood from his head and exhibited him to everyone at the court, like a trophy. He did not let the tears fall, however. He would not give Zaidin that taste.

Arturo had recognized several faces in the room: First Counselor Oscar, the Royal Family's bodyguards, all those lords and ladies gathered around and whose names he did not remember but whose faces were familiar. Queen Virginia herself, wide-eyed at the sight of him.

She had recognized him. Arturo wondered if she had seen in him the child who had once considered her his second mother or the enemy she was now trying to defeat.

It did not matter, because Arturo was there, on his knees and chained, dirty, bruised, wearing only old pants. Humiliation burned inside him. He wanted to scream, but the gag in his mouth prevented him from doing so. He wanted to shake his wings, to make them all disappear, to do anything but kneel submissive there, but the borean steel handcuffs and collar were bounding his magic.

So he just lowered his head, avoiding the glances, pretending he was not there, thinking of his own home and praying that it would end soon.

He _hated_ Zaidin. He would _kill_ Zaidin one day.

At last Queen Virginia said a few words and the same men who had brought him there led him out of the hall. This time Arturo did not try to fight them. He felt himself to cracking for the second time since he had become Zaidin’s prisoner.

 _Crack_ , he thought. _Not break_.

He refused to break. He knew that this was what Zaidin wanted, a docile and well-mannered prisoner, to prove his power over him.

But Arturo would not break.

He was the prince of harpies, the prince of a proud people, a people of traditions and principles. A strong and fearless people.

So Arturo raised his head as he was led out of the hall; he would not break. He had been through so much to break now.

The hood was putted again on his head as he left the room, but looking down to follow the changing of the floor, he realized that he was still able to determine more or less where they were taking him. He and his friends had explored the castle so often as children, running and looking for hidden places.

First, they had taken the corridor that passed in front of the library, then they crossed the dining hall, the kitchens...

But apparently the explorations in childhood had not been complete, and Arturo found himself being led by a path he did not know. Since it did not look like they were leaving the castle, he expected to be taken to the high cells in the preserved towers from medieval times. Instead, he was taken underground and thrown into a dark cell, his wings still restrained, the handcuffs and collar chained to the wall so the most he could do was stand or lie on the floor, but not walk freely through the cell. Only then had the hood and gag been removed.

It was where he was now. Where he had been for the past three days.

Or at least Arturo _thought_ it had been three days. All he knew was that he had slept and woken up three times since he had been left in the dark and had that been enough to leave him in agony. He had not seen anyone since. Nor no one to torture him even more, nor no one to clean the bucket in a corner of the cell that he had discovered when he had accidentally kicked it, nor no one bringing food or water...

 _Thirst._ He was hungry and thirsty, but the thirst overcame the hunger.

At first, he had screamed. In frustration, in anger, in the vain hope that someone would come to order him to shut up. Anything. It had only made his throat drier. Harpies could stay longer without eating or drinking than humans, but he would die without the nutrients anyway. Or, at least, he would hold out longer if he was not wearing the borean steel handcuffs and collar. Now he was not so sure anymore. Since the cuffs and the collar were placed on him, he had been feeling weaker and weaker, as if the metal were not simply bounding his magic but also draining it.

Maybe it was.

It was difficult to determine what was worse: the borean steel, the darkness, the hunger and the thirst or the loneliness.

Until finally, as he lay on his stomach, trying to save himself strength and ease the pain of hunger, he heard a noise outside the cell.

For a moment he thought he was imagining it. That he had reached such a state that he began to hallucinate. He had wanted so badly not to be alone that his mind had invented someone to keep him company.

But it was real. It took a few moments, but someone with a flashlight appeared in the hallway turning the light on next. He closed his eyes.

“Good heavens, you stink.”

"Water," Arturo forced himself to say. He had decided. Thirst was the worst. He needed water. He'd figure out the rest later. He tried to get up: “Please...”

Someone laughed.

“I told you they break down here.”

 _I am not broken_ , Arturo thought, but he did not put the thought into words.

“Please…”

“Harpies are disgusting. Look at this.”

Arturo tried to force himself to open his eyes. The light burned her eyes after so long in the darkness.

Suddenly water. Water being poured into his face, but it was water anyway. He tried desperate to drink it...

It took him a few seconds to realize that it was not water. He rose quickly, trying to get away from the jet, spitting the liquid...

The two guards were laughing; Arturo was shaking, now drenched in a pool of piss.

"Filthy Harpy with those disgusting wings... Did you see him _drinking piss_?" The voice came mockingly. Arturo wished he had the strength to respond it. If it was not for the borean steel...

He was hit by real water before he could sit properly on the ground and the force of the liquid made his arms give way momentarily, almost knocking him down. He knew it was a crude effort to clean him. He coughed.

“Come on, get him up.”

"He is all wet, you get him up!"

There was a sigh and someone pulled Arturo by the arm, putting him on his feet like he was nothing more than a doll. For the first time, he opened his eyes and saw his captors: two guards in castle clothes, not in the military ones. Maybe they were taking him to Queen Virginia. Arturo would like to see her.

He licked his lips, trying to drink as much as he could from the water as the guards loosened the chains that held him to the wall and attached one handcuff to the other. Was not it ironic that he was dying of thirst, but he was all wet? He licked his hands too, not caring for the laughs of the guards.

_You too would be desperate if you had been out of water for three days, you idiots._

But he did not answer. He was too weak to endure more abuse. It was better not to provoke the guards.

In fact, when one of them pulled the chain attached to the collar, trying to parade him like a dog, he barely found the strength not to choke or fall to the ground. His knees failed, he stumbled, but he managed to stay standing. Arturo did not know whether the tremor was angry or cold.

"Come on, don’t be so lazy." The second pull finally made him fall to his hands and knees. His limbs hurt, his face contracting in an expression of pain. But he considered it a victory that he made no noise.

”It is not his fault. Those harpies are deformed. Look at his feet! Not made to talk” The guard pointed at his feet, the four fingers forming claws like those of birds.

Arturo was a prisoner, he understood this and did not expect to receive luxury treatment for being a prince; he knew that his title did not guarantee him advantages there. But he did not expect to be so badly treated. He had been denied food, water, and light for three days, someone had pissed on him, and now the guards mocked him.

In Hakki this would never happen to a prisoner, even if one was a human.

"Please ..." Arturo murmured, not knowing what he wanted. _Please do not mock me, please give me water, please leave me alone._

"Come on, Alvin, you should know these harpies are not as tough as they think they are."

Hands pulled Arturo's hair up the next moment, forcing him to sit on his legs. He barely had time to look at the guard holding him when something was put in his mouth and water fell down his throat.

 _Water finally_. He drank widely, holding the bottle the guard put in his mouth. It was the best water Arturo had ever drunk, and he felt renewed.

But the water ran out soon.

“More.”

"You're not in the place of demanding anything, harpy. Let's go. There's someone who wants to see you.”

He hoped it was Queen Virginia.

The same guard who had offered him water pulled him to his feet, pulling him by the arm while the other pulled him by the other. Arturo wondered if they did it because they felt sorry for him or because they feared punishment if he died in their hands.

They did not put the hood on his head this time, but not that it was necessary, he was not registering the way they were doing, going through corridors and more corridors, upstairs and turning in corners as if in a maze.

Arturo half walked half was loaded during the way, more alert than before, but his legs still having difficulty accompanying the guards. Now that he had drunk something and his thirst did not bother him so much, his stomach roared and ached heavily with hunger.

In the end, they took him inside what looked like an office. It was a simple place by royal standards, but it was also better than any place where he had been held as a prisoner. The guards placed him sitting facing the table, undoing his chains again and fastening one of his wrists to the chair. Then they had left him, telling him to behave and that they would be outside the room.

When he saw himself alone, Arturo looked around better, trying to figure out where he was. He did not recognize the room. He did not know if it was another place he had not explored as a child or if it had been reformed. The truth was that everything seemed new and clean. There was a computer on a table away from him, a white sofa on the other side. The very chair in which he was sitting seemed too clear. Arturo almost felt bad for sitting on it being so dirty.

But the most important part was that there was a basket of fruit on the table in front of him.

He did not think twice. One of his hands was chained, but the other was not. He pulled the basket closer, grabbing an apple and putting it in his mouth as fast as he could.

That was so good! He wondered if the food and water in Aldour were really better than the ones in Hakki.

But he was barely in the third bite when the door opened and someone entered the room.

He did not look but heavens he hoped it was Queen Virginia

“Hey, take it easy, pet. If you eat too fast you will end up feeling sick. And I do not want your vomit on my floor, understand?” It was Zaidin's voice, and Arturo felt himself twitch and shrug, tense.

Arturo looked down, but said nothing; just kept eating the apple in slow bites.

"You do not look so well, pet," Zaidin said as he sat down in the chair in front of him. "And, ah, could really use a shower. Have you been sleeping in your own piss?

"Your men pissed on me," Arturo replied between bites. _Always tell me the true, pet._

"Ah, the Queen's men, you mean? They were just kind enough to bring you here before they take you to Her Majesty. You know, to prepare you for what is coming." Arturo remained silent as Zaidin smiled. "Those last days were not easy, you know. That father of yours really gave us a considerable amount of trouble. But I wanted to be the first to give you the news: the harpies surrendered, the war is over.”

For the first time Arturo stopped eating and looked at Zaidin. The smile on the man's face was full of malice, his dark eyes sparkling with dark contentment. What he was saying could not be true. The Harpies had lost the last battles, it was true, but not to the point of surrender. There was much they could still do, many allies willing to support them. Hakki was a proud kingdom, would not bow to Aldour so easily.

Had his father given up the war, given up on his conquest because of _him_? Arturo knew that his capture would be a blow to Hakki, but not that his father loved him enough to surrender. He was only the third born son and there were still his sisters and... He hoped to be traded for other prisoners, not for Hakki's surrender.

"Am I going home, then?"

Zaidin laughed out loud.

"You will be our ... guest of honor to ensure that your dear father and your adorable brothers do not regret surrendering. The agreement came in exchange for your life, not your freedom. You are still _mine_."

Arturo shuddered, shrinking more. He did not want to look so helpless in front of Zaidin. _Especially_ in front of Zaidin, but he found out that he was unable to relax. Flash of the days ago invaded him: his own hands cuffs above his head, Zaidin's breath too close to his face, the tears in his eyes...

 _No_ , he stopped himself. Arturo would not think of that. He looked directly at Zaidin.

Zaidin was still smiling.

Arturo felt himself beginning to feel sick, but he did not look away.

"You will not get rid of me so easily, pet.” The golden-skinned man stared at him for a few moments before getting up, as if the talk was over. If he had hoped to see Arturo break, he must have been frustrated. His country had been defeated, he was still a prisoner of the humans, it is true. But it would not be some words that would break him. "But I will let the Queen tell you all the terms of the agreement."

Arturo continued to eat the apple as Zaidin walked away, heading toward the door. He then heard the other saying:

"Let the harpy eat the fruits and then take him to the baths. He is still under my custody and must be presentable to the Queen. "

The guards entered the room as soon as Zaidin left. Arturo finished the apple and picked up a grape.

“Eat fast, harpy, we do not have all day!”

"If I eat too fast, I'll be sick. And I do not think that's what you want." He echoed Zaidin's words.

One of the guards grunted but said nothing.

Even so, Arturo rushed a little more to eat the fruits, fearing that the guards would take him away without eating them.

He was finishing a pear - delicious and juicy pear - when one of the men took his free arm.

"Okay, that's enough.”

“But Zaidin said I could finish the frui...!” A slap struck his face before he could finish speaking.

"He also said that we have to take you to the Queen. So be quiet."

The other guard took his other arm. Arturo suppressed a scream of surprise in his throat, trying to pull away from them, but he was still too weak to fight. One of them took a needle, and Arturo fought with all his might.

But none of it was enough, and the men just held him and thrust the needle into his arm.

Arturo didn’t remember anything else after that.

=~~=~~=~~=

He woke up feeling a little dizzy. So he shifted slightly, trying to figure out where he was.

_Water._

He was in the water, but that did not make sense. He tried to remember where he was before and remembered feeling thirsty. His throat was still half dry. What was he doing unconscious in the water?

The smell of eucalyptus was strong. Arturo struggled to sit up.

He did not really expect the screams that came after. There were three or four women in the room he had not noticed when he awoke. All of them, dressed in white clothes and wearing surgical masks, ran out screaming when saw him waking up.

The door was closed as soon as the last one left; the click of the lock came later.

That's when Arturo started to remember. He had spent a few days in a dark cell and then was taken to talk to Zaidin.

Yes. Zaidin had ordered him to be taken to the baths. Those were probably the baths.

He took a better look: he was inside a bathtub.

But that was not the biggest surprise. The biggest surprise – and the reason why the women ran away - was that he was not restrained.

Of course, the borean steel still adorned his fists and neck, but they were not connected to nothing else and the wings were free.

_The wings were free._

Arturo stepped out of the tub too fast, knocking water all over. He had a vague notion that he was naked, but he did not care much about it. The nudity was still degrading, but he'd been naked so often in the past few days that he hardly cared any more. The free wings were a greater urgency.

They were still tense to be so tighten for so long. The feathers all ugly and put out of place. Arturo hesitated a moment before opening them. They looked so bad...

He took a deep breath. He needed to do that.

Keeping the wings tight was painful, but opening them was also painful. Slowly, to let his muscles get accustomed to the new position, he stretched them out and unfolded them. In some places, the feathers were glued together and putting them apart was like peeling off a wound. He closed his eyes tightly when it hurt more, but did not stop opening them.

When fully stretched, the wings occupied almost the entire room. Arturo looked at them, sighing at the deplorable state they were in. The feathers were not only out of place, but there were also places where feathers had been completely ripped out and it was possible to see the raw skin.

He did not want to think about _how_ the feathers had been ripped out. Of course, some of them must have fallen because of abuse, but not all of them. Shivers ran down his spine as he remembered Zaidin searching for him in the middle of the night, Zaidin caressing his wings and then hurting them, Zaidin caressing his body and then...

 _No!_ He opened his eyes. He would not think about it. He would not remember those moments – those days – never again. When this was over, that would be forgotten as if it had never happened.

Now his concern was his wings. Would he ever be able to fly again? How long until they had fully recovered? They had already ripped out his tail’s feathers and half of the wing feathers and the ones that remained seemed so fragile ... Not only that, but there were bruises, wounds in his wings. Greetings from Zaidin, of course. Arturo knew that the intention was to stop him from flying and knew that the purpose had been fulfilled.

But he had to find a way out, even without flying. Now that he knew he would not be part of a prisoner exchange, he had to find a way out on his own. He could not bear a lifetime of the abuses he had been suffering. More important than that, his _wings_ would not bear.

He knew he was getting some freedom because he was supposed to be unconscious, but that would soon end and someone would come in and restrain him. That's what humans did with harpies.

It was while still staring at the outstretched wings that he noticed the mirror. He slowly closed his wings, afraid to hurt them further, but there was no other way to approach the mirror.

Looking at his reflection was perhaps even worse than looking at his wings. He looked terrible and it was hard to recognize himself. His toenails had been sanded and were no longer pointed. Naked, he could see where the ribs began to appear, where the always athletic body now seemed to shrink. He could see the new scars all over the body: the cuts of the whip, the marks from which he had been burned, tortured, bruised, scratched and bitten by Zaidin...

Arturo forced himself to look up. He would pay no attention to any of it.

His face did not look any better. He looked thinner, sicker. Huge circles were marking his eyes, the purple of the last punch had not completely disappeared.

He'd never been hurt for so long. With his magic, usually a wound lasted only a few hours, a day at most to disappear. Now he was a canvas painted in various colors of wounds and cuts and bruises...

The door opened slowly, but it was enough to scare Arturo. He stared at the source of the sound, only to find a plump lady staring at him in terror.

"Stay away, or I'll shoot," she said as she lifted something that looked awfully like a gun.

Arturo jumped, raising his arms, startled.

Normally, a common gun would have no effect on him. The only thing that could permanently hurt him was borean steel and whitefire, and none of them could be turned into gun bullets. But he was wearing borean steel cuffs. He had no idea how much his magic was bounded. He could not heal, he might not have been able to take a bullet.

"Calm down," he said to the woman, who wore the same white clothes as the others, her hair tied firmly in a bun.

“Back, harpy.” She continued on, Arturo continued to retreat. He raised his hands to where she could see them. Without the handcuffs, he would have been stronger than she, but he wanted to make it clear he was wearing them and that he was harmless to her.

"I will not hurt you, I will not, I'll just..."

He did not even finish speaking before pain ran through his body, his mind shutting down for a few seconds and letting his body fall to the floor. He screamed. He barely had time to register that the woman pulled the trigger.

But that was not a real gun. He just felt disoriented and his whole body screamed in pain, but it had not been punctured. The pain was not a bullet in his chest, but shocks.

It was a taser gun, unable to do permanent damage, but enough to immobilize him for a few seconds.

Enough time for the woman to approach with the same needle the guards had used on him before. Arturo tried to asked her not to do so but was unable to speak proper words. The drug was injected into his vein and he slid gently back into the darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like long chapters? Was this one too long?  
> In this chapter we saw a bit of Arturo's point of view. In the next one, hopefully we will see Arturo and Caleb's first interaction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm very sorry for being so late. But with the end of the year and all the exams and latter I went travelling... But here it is the third chapter. I will revise it again latter for grammar mistakes but as it has been so long since the last update I decide to post it was it was. I am very sorry for that!  
> Hope you enjoy!

To Caleb, the best thing about the end of the war was that he could finally come home. Adelia did not share his happiness, she liked royal palace life, but he was too happy to be shaken by his sister's displeasure.

In fact, Caleb had always thought Dylan, their younger brother, was the luckiest of the tree. Five years earlier, when the war had begun and Caleb had been summoned to join it, the teenager Dylan had stayed in Danhur because _there must always be a Harton in Dahur_ , or at least that was what their father said, and his children had made his will. It had been three years since the three siblings had met now, but soon Caleb and Adelia would be home and everything would be back to normal.

The war was over.

Saying those words still left a strange taste in his mouth. They seemed too surreal, as if coming out of a dream. Caleb was honestly relieved by the victory, but he could not help but think of everything he had lost since the beginning of the war. The prosthesis became automatically uncomfortable whenever he heard someone celebrate or talk about the expectations that victory brought. The truth was that he could only think of Leo.

Leo was not just his prince, someone to follow and admire. Leo was his best friend, almost his brother and his absence was still palpable. Caleb felt bad about celebrating the end of the war when Leo could not be there to see it as well.

So every time he was forced to attend one of the celebratory parties or banquets, Caleb never felt comfortable enough. He wanted to be happy like everyone else, wanted to have good expectations for the future, but the future didn’t seemed as bright as the rest of the people thought. At least he had managed to avoid Zaidin until now. He would not be able to deal so soon with the duke's flattery, wanting Caleb's support to be named the Queen's heir now more than ever.

 _Soon I am coming home_ , Caleb concentrated on that thought. He only had to attend the official signing of the peace treaty between Aldour and Hakki and his obligations in the capital would end.

He had thought a lot about the treaty in the last few days as well. After Zaidin introduced Arturo as his prisoner to the whole court, shouting to all of them how he had the key to triumph, he had also given them a peace agreement which himself had drafted. The Queen had read the document and passed it to her advisors and counselors, and when it was Caleb's turn to read Zaidin's proposal, he felt himself getting sick. Among the terms of the agreement, which included Hakki's surrender and accountability for the war, were the retributions Hakki had to render to Aldour. And among retributions was Arturo's voluntary servitude.

He still dreamed of Arturo, still let much of his anger about the war be directed at him. But his feelings were confused. He wanted the harpy prince to pay somehow, but Caleb was unable to agree to slavery.

Of course, the words in the agreement were _voluntary servitude_. But in practice, everyone knew it would not be Arturo's choice. No one would choose to belong to Zaidin if given the choice.

Caleb had raised the questions that that implied. But as he had no better answers, his worries were cast aside.

Zaidin had smiled directly at him that day.

And so a heated long distance discussion had begun between the two kingdoms when Aldour had sent the first message to Hakki.

At first, King Guntrano had said that he would not accept an agreement at all and that Hakki would not surrender. He offered, instead, an exchange of prisoners: three generals for Arturo. Then it was the Queen's turn to refuse.

Some offenses had been exchanged along the way. New proposals emerged that had been considered disrespectful by one side or the other and the way to communicate had changed. What were once formal written messages became audio and video meeting, connecting monarchs directly. Caleb had heard each one. His admiration for the Queen had only grown.

But the conversations seemed useless and they were getting nowhere. In fact, they only started get somewhere when the Queen had threatened to execute Arturo.

 _"A son for a son."_ She had said, staring directly at the camera, and Caleb could not remember ever seeing such hatred in the Queen's eyes.

Guntrano finally ceded. It was possible to say a lot about the old man, but he cared about the family, Caleb thought. He would not let Arturo be killed alone in enemy territory. It was better to have him as a prisoner and someday be able to get him back than to lose him forever.

And these were new clauses that were added in the treaty: Arturo could not be killed or placed in any situation that would threaten his life and the treaty would be reviewed in five years.

Finally, after days of discussion and by the time the two kingdoms had finally agreed to the terms, the end of the war had been declared and Hakki promised to send a representative of the harpies to sign the contract in person.

Caleb sighed in relief. It was almost over.

In fact, the last part was the reading of the treaty as a whole and its signature in the presence of representatives of both countries and their witnesses. This would happen that afternoon, and then Caleb would come home.

It was almost over.

He was just heading to the room where they should sign the contract when he heard someone shout behind him:

“Ah! The noble Caleb Harton! I did not get a chance to talk to you yet.” It was Zaidin's voice approaching him from behind. Caleb thought of simply ignoring him, but the other had already seeing him so that was a little complicated. "Don’t you talk to old friends who just returned from the war?" The man finally reached him, walking beside him. A strong smell invaded Caleb's nose.

“Many parties and meetings, I've been very busy. And I can imagine you've been busy too. I did not have the pleasure of meeting you too much outside of the meetings.”

"Ah, indeed!” Zaidin looked as elegantly dressed as when he had presented Arturo to the crowded hall a few days earlier. Caleb had almost forgotten how elegant he could be, with his slender body. He was so used to thinking of Zaidin as a great warmaster, leading his men against the enemy...

Now he looked almost serene. More relaxed and with a carefree smile on his face. If Caleb did not know him better, he would think he really wanted to just talk to him.

But he had heard enough of Zaidin's conversations to know that he only wanted his support to finally become the Queen's heir.

"You're going back to Danhur, I hear. You always wanted to come back, did not you?”

"Yes, with the end of the war I must reassume my duties as Lord of Danhur.”

“Always the working man. We in the capital will miss you.”

"So you're staying?"

Zaidin's golden eyes looked directly at him. Like Caleb, Zaidin was the leader of his house after his father had died a few years before the war. He was expected to remain in his region, serving his people, unless the Queen demanded otherwise. Caleb looked at Zaidin, trying to read the man. What did he mean by that?

“I was asked to be part of the Queen's Council.”

It was not news that Caleb appreciated. If the Queen had actually appointed him as a counselor, it made it clear that his favor was alongside Zaidin's pretense. More dukes and duchesses would support him now. He already had the support of the Altons and the Farleys, if the others also supported him...

“Caleb, Zaidin!” The warm voice so different from Zaidin's called. "Good to see you lads. They're right on time.”

It was Oscar, the Queen's first counselor, who spoke. He was a short, stocky man with blue eyes and a huge mustache that covered almost his entire face. Now the few hairs left on his head were silver, but Caleb remembered being a child and playing with a strong black-haired man.

“Come on, come in.”

The man led them into a well-lit room, where most people were already. A large table was in the center, very much like the one in the Queen's Council room but larger. No one was sitting yet, but the mood seemed light in the room, not as if they were about to sign such an important agreement.

Caleb saw the dukes Hector and Brandon and the duchess Mia laughing on one side, and the countess Kate talking to her brother Benjamin in another corner, and several other nobles sipping wine served by some servants. Although Hakki's official representatives were not yet there, Caleb could not help noticing that there were two harpies serving wine, their magic bound by the borean steel collar and cuffs. He wondered if that was the best idea. They were trying to make peace with the harpies while they exhibited those they held as prisoners. But surely the Queen knew what she was doing.

The Queen herself was already there, wearing a blue and white dress, the colors of Aldour; Caleb headed toward her, grateful that Zaidin headed to see Kate first.

"Oh, Caleb," the Queen exclaimed as she took him by the shoulder and cupped his cheek against his, a gentle smile on her face. “I'm glad you're here. It's good to have you around.”

He forced a smile at her. He always felt a little uncomfortable when she was so loving to him, especially because it made him remember Leo. Of course, the Queen had always had that great maternal instinct within her and had always treated Caleb well, especially after his parents had died in an accident when he was still a child. But the Queen had become even more affectionate after Leo had died. It was almost as if she saw the son she'd lost in Caleb, and he did not feel good thinking he might be replacing Leo.

"Do you need to sit down?" The woman continued worried, looking at his leg.

Caleb also looked down, forgetting briefly about his missing leg.

"No thank you, You Majesty. I'm comfortable."

“Are you drinking something tonight?”

“No, thank you. I do not like to drink on occasions like this.”

“Oh, I suppose you are right.” She continued, glancing around briefly, watching the other nobles drinking. "But I figured everyone deserved a reward. We've all worked so hard these last few days and finally being able to reach an agreement...”

"By the way, Your Majesty, if it is not petulance, where is the other… side of the agreement? I only see Aldourians here."

"They must be coming. I sent a guard to escort the princess to this room a few moments ago."

“The princ...?” Caleb started in confusion. He knew that Hakki's representatives had arrived the day before, but he did not know exactly who. Of course it was not the old Guntrano, but Caleb had not thought exactly about who it was.

"My Queen." Again Zaidin's voice came from nowhere, taking the Queen's hand and applying a soft kiss there. The woman smiled at him. "Can I say how beautiful you look today?"

“Zaidin! Thank you. You look elegant too”. Caleb did not like how Zaidin seemed close to the Queen. "Where is your servant? He's part of the deal, he must be here too. "

“I sent him to the baths. He should be brought here when he's ready.”

“Oh, yes. Very thoughtful of you.”

It did not escape Caleb's ears that the Queen had not called Arturo by his name. He wondered how she must be feeling. Among all of Guntrano's children, Arturo had always been the one who had enjoyed most visits to the palace as a child, running and playing with Caleb and Leo. But it was also Arturo the general who had commanded the attack that had resulted in Leo's death, and it had been Arturo who had had the opportunity to calm his father when the war had begun and refused to do so. Now Arturo was there. Their prisoner.

 _Zaidin_ 's prisoner.

Caleb was a little distracted when he heard the door open again. It was Oscar opening it, this time to let a woman and a man in the castle guards' clothes come in. Arturo stood in the middle of them with his head bowed, his hands tied in front of him, the borean steel cuffs and the collar still present. His wings were still chained too, but this time he wore simple and complete clothes: a white T-shirt and gray pants. He looked much more presentable than in the hall, but now, closely, Caleb could see the visible signs of his bad treatment in the recent weeks.

The harpy had large marks of dark circles underneath the eyes and there was what looked like a part of a bruise vanishing on his left cheek. He looked thinner than Caleb could remember and his expression of exhaustion was visible. His feet were free, but he limped at times, as if he were too weak to stand. Caleb almost felt sorry for him for a moment.

Everyone was silent as Arturo entered. Caleb noticed the glances, some of contempt, some serious, but Kate and Zaidin were smiling.

Caleb saw the duke approaching Arturo, who kept his eyes down. Out of submission, shame, or anger, Caleb could not tell.

"Ah, so here it is our greatest victory. I suppose we should thank you: we won the war because of your failure.”

While most of the nobles laugh, Zaidin approached and whispered something in Arturo's ear. The harpy closed his eyes, looking with anger at the man, moving in his chains as if he were to attack him. But Zaidin said something Caleb was not able to hear and Arturo cringed, his whole body shaking as he looked down again.

Caleb frowned. Apart from his own dislike of slavery something in the interaction of the two made him uncomfortable. He looked to the Queen and saw she wasn’t laughing like the rest of the people.

It took a few minutes after that for Oscar ask for silent again. He was standing next to the door and only opened it when everyone was looking at him.

When a door opened an elegant woman dressed in a black long dress entered the room. Her black wings mixed with the dress and her dark hair framed the calm face.

That was Hakki’s oldest princess.

=~~=~~=~~=

 

_Ravenna._

Arturo lost his balance momentarily in the shock of seeing his sister. What was she doing there? Of course, when Zaidin have said that Hakki and Aldour had get to an agreement, he expected to see some member of his family, but he thought it would be one of his brothers not Ravenna. His sisters were never involved in a war, women in Hakki did not...

That's when he realized. Ravenna was the oldest child of their father, and while in Hakki a woman could never inherit the throne, in Aldour she would be a next queen. Sending Ravenna was one of his father's tricks. He insulted the Aldourians without them realizing it. To the humans it was a great honor to receive the first King’s child, but in Hakki that would not be seen with the same eyes. Arturo wondered if his people would even consider that a contract signed only by Ravenna was valid.

His father always said that there would things and places for men and women. That men were strong and intelligent, leaders and responsible for the family protection; and women were fragile and hysterical, responsible only for bringing children to the world and raising them. But Arturo had two older sisters and one younger. He knew them well enough to know that that was not true.

Anyway, Arturo was happy to see Ravenna. He had prepared himself to face his brothers, but it was pleasant surprise to see Ravenna. She was accompanied by a personal guard whom he had seen several times before, but it was amazing how she stood out in the middle of the room, blue eyes flashing, staring deeply at each of the humans. She was accompanied by a personal guard whom he had seen several times before, but it was amazing how she stood out in the middle of the room, blue eyes flashing, staring deeply at each of the humans.

If that was not strength, Arturo did not know what strength was. And he had been in the army; he had seen two wars closely. He had sent his men to death, had heard their stories on their deathbed, and told the families that they had lost sons, fathers, brothers. He had been fighting for almost half his life now and he believed that he knew what force was.

And her sister facing a room full of humans practically alone without having received previous training and not changing her expression when she saw Arturo... That was strength.

Arturo was sure that if he was able to smell her, he would discover how much she was nervous behind the mask of calmness. But the borean steel did its job well, and the only scent he could smell was the Zaidin’s particularly strong scent.

And Zaidin was standing at his right, so Arturo did not look in that direction. But he did not want to look to the left either because that was where Caleb was.

And Arturo preferred to look at Zaidin than to look at Caleb. He could not even bare to think of this old friend and looking at him was enough to make Arturo flaming with anger.

Caleb who thought he was so perfect, with his cut well blond hair, his plain face and his latest fashion clothes. Arturo wanted to blow him up when he remembered the message Caleb had sent him before the war between humans and harpies burst.

_"You can persuade your father to stay still. Make him give up these crazy ideas."_

Crazy ideas! Frankly. As if the problem was simple to solve like that. As if Arturo only had to talk his father and everything would be fine. As if they had not just discovered factories in Aldour that used harpies as slaves which human government refused to recognize and set them free.

But to Caleb, Arturo only had to talk to his father and everything would be all right.

If Caleb were _really_ friends with Arturo, he would not ask such absurdity.

Of course, if the treatment that Arturo was receiving was any indication of how the Aldourians thought it normal to treat the harpies, then he was not surprised that they thought it normal to enslave his people in factories.

Then, not wanting to look to the right or to the left, Arturo kept his eyes on his sister.

"Princess Ravenna, it is a pleasure to welcome you here," the Queen said, approaching the harpy and greeting her. "I am very happy that our kingdoms can finally attain peace."

"It’s very kind of you to welcome us here, Queen Virginia."

"Keep your eyes down, pet," Zaidin whispered in Arturo's ear. "Or things will not be okay for you later.”

For a moment Arturo kept looking forward, as if Zaidin had said nothing. Then the human put his hand on his chained wings, caressing them gently before pulling a feather.

He wanted to scream, pain coming down his wings and reaching his back. But he managed to keep silent, staring at Zaidin with hatred. The other only moved his lips, without sound: "Eyes down."

This time Arturo bowed his head, looking down. He hated to look so submissive, but he did not want to scream in front of his sister either. And he knew Zaidin would pull another feather if he did not obey.

In fact, he was a little grateful that humans made him more presentable for this meeting. He was wearing a shirt that covered most of his new scars and bruises which had also been treated by a doctor, and his stomach was full for the first time since he had been a prisoner. When he had woken up after being bathed, a small maid had offered him a soup that had warmed him up completely and had tasted wonderful in his mouth. Whether these had been Zaidin's instructions or the maid's own initiative, Arturo neither knew nor was eager to find out.

He was just happy for the recent care that made him look less bad. He did not want his sister to worry.

Ravenna and Queen Virginia kept talking while Arturo had his head bowed and finally he heard the peace treaty being read. Though he could not look at all those noblemen gathered with his and his country's destinies in hand, he listened to the words.

It was not much different from what he expected. The treaty required Hakki to take responsibility for the war, apologizing to Aldour by the payment of taxes, the reduction of the army, and the loss of some territories at the borders. Prisoners of war on both sides would be returned to their countries (with the exception of those deemed to have committed a crime other than warfare). And, finally, Hakki was to hand over Arturo to Aldour as a volunteer servant to one of the dukes or duchesses of Aldour.

 _Volunteer servant._ Perhaps the problem with humans was that they did not know what slavery meant. Of course, he could not be killed but he would be forced to do whatever his handler demanded of him or he would be punished for it. He would not be considered property, but it was not free to leave nor would be paid to work. For Arturo he looked like enough with slavery.

The fact that surprised him, however, was the final part of the treaty that said that it could be reviewed in five years. Maybe there was still hope.

In the end, and in spite of what Zaidin had ordered, Arturo watched as Queen Virginia and his sister signed the contract and then passed on to three Aldourians noblemen and the Ravenna personal guard to sign it as witnesses.

Arturo felt sick for a moment. He wanted to scream for his sister not to sign anything, but this was not his decision to make and he can only watch as the treaty was finalized.

Even if it meant that he would be kept as a prisoner in Aldour, and that the war would probably have been worth nothing but the loss of more lives.

He felt angry. It seemed that everything the harpies had fought for had ended because he had failed.

Zaidin was right: it was his fault.

Maybe he deserved that punishment.

He was led out of the room by a leash that Zaidin fastened on his collar. He looked one last time at Ravenna, hoping she was not looking at him, but she must have seen the humiliating state he was in. Then Arturo followed Zaidin as fast as he could, eager to get out of sight of Ravenna.

"It's official now, Pet. You are mine," Zaidin whispered to him. Arturo cringed. “Come on.”

The duke was about to take him away but the door behind them opened and the Ravenna’s guard appeared.

"Duke Zaidin, if you could be so kind, my princess would like to speak to your servant in private."

Arturo can see Zaidin hesitate. He certainly was not expecting it.

"The queen had said such a meeting would be possible," the guard added when Zaidin said nothing.

At the mention of the Queen, the malicious smile returned to his face and he said:

“Yes of course. I believe this can be arranged as a way of showing our goodwill.”

And Arturo could not say how he felt about meeting his sister.

=~~=~~=~~=

 

Arturo was back in that white office of Zaidin, his hands still bound by a chain in the manacles in front of his body and wings still chained, but everything else free. The duke himself was there, waiting at the door while Arturo was standing in the middle of the room.

A few minutes earlier, when Zaidin had brought him there, he had warned him to be careful what he was going to say to Ravenna. They had just signed a peace treaty; they did not have to go back to war because of their whims.

_"Would you have us all risking our lives, the lives of your people in a war again just because the crying little baby had to run to the big sister to protect him? Be a man"._

Arturo hated Zaidin. But even if he had not told him anything, the prince would not tell his sister anything either. He did not need Ravenna worrying.

"This way, princess."

His voice was soft and gentle, nothing like the way he treated Arturo. Even though Ravenna was one of the "filthy harpies" that Zaidin always accused him of being.

"Thank you." Ravenna was being a good actress. Arturo could not find the sweet woman who was sister behind the armor she wore. "My Lord, if you can be so nice to let me talk to my brother alone... I'm sure he'll behave better after talking to me."

"As my princess command," he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Even though Zaidin probably was not very far, he gave them the false sense of privacy.

Arturo did not want to look at his sister. He kept his eyes on the ground for a moment, not sure what to say. Only when she asked him to look at her that he did it.

Ravenna was as beautiful as he remembered.

"Sweetie." The mask of coldness melted from his sister's eyes, and her arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. "You've been so strong, so brave," she whispered into his ear as she ran her hand through his hair. Arturo closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of being loved for the first time in a long time. "Your wings! I cannot believe these humans did this to them! Keep them that way all the time!"

Arturo did not answer; he only put his head deeper on his sister's shoulder. Not only did he feel that he would begin to cry if he spoke, but that truth was that he was largely relieved that his wings were chained like that. If they were open Ravenna would only be alone to see the true state they were in and he did not want it to happen.

He just wanted to stay there, in his sister's arms forever.

"We'll get you back home. Just hold on a little longer." She ran her hands over his wings, fixing his feathers. Arturo loved when the sisters cared for his wings. He felt protected and powerful at the same time.

"I know what he's done." The whispered words in his ear made him tremble. _Ravenna knew_. "There is harpy’s smell all over him. But it will not last long. He'll get what he deserves."

Arturo did not want to think about it. Among all the abuses that had been suffering this was by far the worst. And he could not complain, he would not complain...

"Stay strong. S _tay in the air_." Those were the words of the family. Arturo thought of his father. Ravenna stepped back, holding her brother by the shoulders. "Do not forget who you are, do not forget how strong you are." She looked down at his cuffed hands, touching the cuffs. "The steel is not stronger than you. You'll take it. You're a prince, Arturo. "

From so close, Ravenna smelled like home. He missed home.

She stroked his arms, holding his hands tightly. "I love you, sweetie."

Ravenna kissed his forehead, running a hand through his hair one last time. Arturo wanted to hold her, stop her from going. He wanted to tell her that he was not strong enough, that if she really loved him she would not leave him there.

"Princess" The door opened and Zaidin entered. "Enough"

"Bye, sweetie. Do not forget. Stay in the air." She whispered in his ear before heading toward the door, not looking back.

And with that, she left him.

Almost at the same time, he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder. He cringed, closing his eyes. Back to real life. And in real life, he was still Zaidin’s prisoner.

"Beauty really runs in the family," Zaidin whispered in his ear. "Unfortunately the treaty only allows me you but can you imagine how delightful it would be to have your beautiful sister too? Think of how soft her hair would be in my hands, the beautiful marks I would leave on her pale skin, on her lips writhing and begging, crying my name..."

Arturo shifted in his chains, eager to drop the chains and punch Zaidin. He would not talk about his sister like that. He could hurt Arturo, torture him, threaten him, laugh at his deplorable state. _Use your body._ But he would never touch Ravenna.

"Easy, pet." Zaidin grinned. "Your sister is safe as long as you behave." He ran his hand over Arturo's neck, forcing him to look up, touching the collar, and linking the leash. "Come"

Arturo did not fight as he was paraded through the corridors of the castle. Somehow, seeing her sister had just drained his strength. If not even Ravenna could save him, perhaps his fate was really surrender to Zaidin. She had said they would take him home, but clearly their father was more than willing to sacrifice his freedom in favor of an end to the war. And sacrificing himself in the name of his people was his duty as a prince. Maybe that was the best way.

Five years, though. The contract would be reviewed in five years.

He could wait.

Immersed in thoughts, Arturo did not even notice the path they took. It was only when they passed a richly ornamented hallway that he realized he was not being taken back to the dungeons. In fact, that was the way to...

No.

_The bedrooms._

He stopped suddenly, only to be choked by Zaidin still pulling the leash.

The human looked back, smiling at the panic on Arturo's face.

"Oh, so you know where we're going. It makes things easier, I suppose." Arturo tried to fight to break free, but Zaidin held the leash firmly, pulling him closer. "You know, you can walk with some dignity or I can drag you, it makes no difference to me, the result will be the same."

"You cannot. I'm not a toy, I’m..."A slap struck his face before he could finish speaking.

"Do not say anything unless it's to say 'yes, master.' This is a lesson you will learn: how to address me properly now that I am your official handler."

Arturo tried to keep his face in a threatening expression, but he was not sure if he was being convincing enough. Anger burned inside him.

"Come now, pet."

But once again, Arturo refused to walk.

The next pull made him suffocate momentarily, lose his balance and fall, his hands barely fast enough to stop him from hitting his face on the floor.

He heard Zaidin's laughter.

"You harpies may be powerful in the air, but your thin legs were not made for walking. And you've been a long time _away from the air_ , have not you, birdie? "

 _Stay in the air_. Arturo thought about his family's words, his sister's voice still inside his mind. He wondered how much of the conversation Zaidin had heard.

He hated being so weak. He hated hardly being able to stand.

"I'm not ... yours," Arturo growled, looking up and trying to get to his feet. "Nor will I ever be. And I do not care about any treaty."

He was already crouched when he felt the leash being pulled forward again and he fell back to his knees.

Zaidin sighed.

"You really are slow to learn, aren’t you? That could be so much easier." The duke approached Arturo who was still on his knees. Suddenly the only thing in the sight of the harpy was the belt of the other. Zaidin touched the zipper of his pants. Arturo closed his mouth and looked down, shocked.

"We can do it here if you do not want to go to the bedroom." Zaidin bent down, bringing his mouth close to his ear. "Anyway, I'll have what I want."

Arturo was silent for a moment then he stood up. Zaidin grinned.

"Good choice." And as he pulled the chain once more, Arturo followed.

 _Cracking_ , he thought. _Not broken._

=~~=~~=~~=

 

He was shrunken, shaking, naked. The cold was unbearable. The pain and humiliation were worse. He just wanted to disappear.

Arturo heard the sound of the shower being turned on somewhere far away. Tears streamed down his face.

He felt a little distant from reality. As if he was not in his own body. Maybe that meant that soon he would be dead. He hoped so, at least.

He hugged his legs, trying to bring them as close to his body as possible, his limbs free for the first time since he had lain down on that bed. Zaidin had trapped his arms and legs apart, his body stretched out like a starfish. Stretched for _him_.

Arturo felt a tremor all over his body at the thought.

Zaidin was no longer there.

But the marks Zaidin left were. Arturo closed his eyes, trying not to think about it, but everything he could think of was the other. His hands trailing his body and his wings, his lips kissing his neck and wriggling, forcing his body to betray him. The marks that Zaidin had left _inside_ Arturo.

 He wanted to cry.

The harpy began to run his hand over his legs in a flawed gesture to try to comfort himself. All he wanted was to be in his sister's arms again, but he knew this was not possible. His sister knew what was happening and was unable to make it stop.

In fact, he did not even know if he wanted to be saved. He was a prince, a commander. Having someone seeing him in such situation would just be more humiliating.

Then he just stroked his legs, trying not to think of Zaidin's hands forcing them apart.

He tried too not to think of the ankle brace that was now attached to his left ankle. As soon as they had entered the room, Zaidin had told him that he had a gift for him and had secured the device. This one, he said, was neither magic nor made of borean steel. According to the duke, this was an ankle brace used on humans in parole, which contained a tracking chip and limited space where he could go. The only thing different was that in his there was Zaidin’s name engraved on it.

 _“As we do with our birdies here”_ , Zaidin had said, the cruel smile.

If Arturo had not had his hands chained (and if he did not know better) he would have punched him.

As a test, Zaidin'd limited his access to the room and asked Arturo to leave. Not quite believing in the device, he had tried, only for his entire body to be electrocuted and his left foot pinned to the ground. The pain had only stopped when Zaidin used his control to disable the device. Arturo decided not to try to leave the room again.

That was why he did not try to escape even if Zaidin was in the shower. That was why he was just lying on the bed, waiting. He did not want to feel any more pain - he could not feel any more pain so soon.

Nothing in the army could have prepared him for that.

He just wanted to disappear.

His hands stopped stroking his legs and moved to his arms. He hugged himself, trying to keep himself warm. He was cold. He was shaking. And he could not warm up at all.

If it were not for those stupid borean steel cuffs!

He remembered when they had been placed. He had never felt so bad in life. He had tried to resist, but when they had been closed the cuffs on his wrists and the collar around his neck he had only been able to fall on his knees, his whole body aching and his legs losing their strength, then vomiting and his whole body shaking violently - almost as if to convulse.

He hated the steel. The worst part was that the harpies did not even know how it was made or why it affected them so much. And why did it only work when the cuffs were closed on it? This was a human secret that, whenever the harpies had tried to replicate or study deeper, they had failed miserably. Unlike white fire, which was best understood by the harpies - despite their equally devastating effects - borean steel was only this unknown terror, almost like a tale that mothers tell their children at night only to frightened them.

With the difference that the borean steel was real.

And Arturo hated it. If he could take off the cuffs and the collar, if he could use his full strength... He would not be here, Zaidin would be dead and the harpies would not have given up.

He ran his hand through the gray handcuffs and wondered how it could be that the metal was so similar to silver - that made him stronger - and have such a deadly effect on him.

It was while watching the cuffs that he realized something he had not before. There was something like a paper streaming beneath them. Confused, he picked it up gently and pulled it over, noticing it was a small note inside a plastic bag.

He recognized his father's handwriting:

_“Kill the dukes. Find the formula.”_

For a moment he was confused. How that note had come to stop there, how...

Ah! So that was the plan. Ravenna must have placed the note while stroking his arms. His father was not simply surrendering for his son's sake; he had found a use for him. Positioned within the royal castle, it would be easier for Arturo to kill the Dukes and steal the formula of the borean steel. So the victory of the harpies would be inevitable. They could even say that the peace contract signed by a harpy woman was not valid!

The world made sense again. The plan was more like his father than simply surrendering.

Arturo turned the paper, realizing that there was something written on the verse:

_“If you cannot, eat it.”_

For a moment Arturo did not understand. He looked at the paper wrapped in plastic more closely. That was when he realized. The letters were written in a blue ink. This was not ordinary paint.

It was…

_Poison._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and kudos if you like! And I'd love to hear your suggestions as well!  
> Next chapter we shall see more through Caleb's POV, I think. And Arturo and Caleb really talking for the first time.


End file.
